


Ave Maria

by tielan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Drama, Gen, Human Experimentation, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria had found the papers, seen the signatures on faded, brittle files. They meant shit now – the procedures and testing that had been done on them were so far beyond what those men had initially agreed to, that it was basically the equivalent of agreeing to get stitches for a gash on your palm and discovering they’d amputated your hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ave Maria

**Author's Note:**

> This is the opening scene for what was a 'backstory' fic for the epic Maria-centric fic I'm trying to write in the next few months. In the end, I decided not to complete it simply because Maria will be explaining what happened to another character in the course of the story, and I don't have the time to do it.

They’d been human once.

Some of them still were.

Maria looked at the bank of screens in the observation rooms and felt sick. She didn’t let it show, of course. She’d long ago learned how to keep a stony expression.

“The test subjects have been pretty restless for the last hour.” Dr. Joseph Lester tapped one of the screens where a man – _test subject_ , Maria thought acidly to herself – was battering his fists against the wall and had been for the last five minutes. “Since your chopper was first sighted. They’ve got a nose for these things.” He grinned, as though he’d made a great joke.

Maria ignored him, already feeling the headache behind her eyes.

Volunteer human experimentation was one thing. What Maria read had been done to these men in the name of science was something else entirely.

There was a reason S.H.I.E.L.D. had closed down the original project.

Maria looked at the screens which showed the prisoners doing everything from lying down to punching the wall. Two were curled up around their knees, rocking in the middle of their cells. A few were watching the cameras that watched them, their expressions wary and dangerous, while others lay with their eyes shut, as though resting. One even seemed to be meditating, sitting in an easy cross-legged position on his bed, eyes closed.

“There’s only thirteen of them left? The original project notes said thirty men volunteered.”

“Only twenty five made it out of the cryogenic unit,” Lester said. “We lost seven during the initial hormone injections, then another five during the first rounds of testing.”

“Medical death or termination?”

Lester hesitated a moment, then lifted his chin very slightly. “Termination.” He shrugged when Maria glanced at him. “They grew violent when handled by our people – we lost six technicians – had to keep scaling up our protocols. We changed it so there was less interaction with non-security personnel. We haven’t lost anyone in a long time—”

“Doctor, we’ve got movement! Something’s happening…”

Maria glanced back at the screens, where fully half the men – those who’d been lying down or relaxing – were now sitting up, their heads turned towards the camera.

“The Weathervane’s up, Doc.” The scientist indicated the one who’d been meditating – now looking at the camera, his mouth moving in words that couldn’t be heard inside the security room.

“Weathervane?”

A less likely weathervane Maria couldn’t imagine – the man was big and bulky, with a build not unlike Dr. Banner’s Hulk, although at least this one was normal-sized and not Hulk-sized.

“He’s a savant, really,” Lester said. “But he gives us an insight into the others – well, usually. As you can see, the violent ones aren’t changing their behaviour, but when The Weathervane turns, we’ve learned to pay attention. What’s he saying, Ritchie?”

Ritchie was pressing his earpiece deeper, frowning at the board. “Um. You’re going to want to hear this…”

He flipped another switch and a sonorous voice came through the speakers, proclaiming, “... _o_ _ra pro nobis martyribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae…_ ”

Chills slid down Maria's spine. She knew this recitation. Parts of it, anyway.

Over by the door, Gunny Sergeant Hank Walters made noise of surprise, “Isn’t that the Hail Mary?”

“Sounds like it.” Lester frowned. “Sort of.”

“And that’s not the intersting part,” said Ritchie, and flipped another switch. The room filled with voices – all of them speaking in perfectly-timed unison.

" _Ave Maria, gratia plena…_ ”

Maria kept her expression politely curious in spite of her sudden tension. “Aren’t they in separate cells?”

“Yes,” Lester looked at her, wide eyed and delighted. “This has never happened before. Well, it seems like this is just a day for new things! We’ll have to pull one of them out for you to talk to…”

“… _Dominus_ _tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus…_ ”

Walters was looking her way with a question on his face. At Lester’s words, he turned. “Is that safe?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t—”

The room plunged into darkness.

Maria instinctively caught her breath, even as she reached for the flashlight in her vest.

Not just the lights, but the power. The screens had gone dark and the sound had cut off, leaving an eerie silence. Further down the corridor there were shouts, which suggested it wasn’t just been this room affected.

A moment later emergency lights came on, bathing everything in a pale green glow.

Lester looked taken aback. “Well, that was—”

Maria wasn’t listening, her finger already at her earpiece. “Sanchez, Heddy, did you just have a power outage?” Behind her, Walters was contacting the rest of the unit, calling in their positions and status.

“Sanchez, here, Agent Hill. Yep, we did. Oh, wait, looks like we’re powering up—”

The air cycler started up with a great _whoosh_ of air, and the machines hummed as they came back online. “Power’s back on here. Hold position, we’re on track. Call the chopper and tell him to prep for personnel transfer – and to contact the prisoner transports.”

A hand plucked at her sleeve. “Prisoner transports?” Lester whirled. “Agent Hill, these test subjects are extremely dangerous!”

“And yet you wanted me to speak with one of them.”

“Under controlled circumstances! Look, this isn’t just any project – we’re on the road towards recreating Erskine’s work on Captain America.”

“So was Dr. Banner.” Maria wasn’t inclined to pull her punches. “Have you been to Harlem lately?”

“This is different – completely different. We’ve been working with these men for over two years now, and in the last six months they’ve been more stable than at any time before—”

“Agent,” Walter’s voice cut through Lester’s protests. “We’ve got a problem.”

Maria looked towards him then paused. The video feeds of the cells were coming back online, one by one, showing the test subjects: six prisoners in their cells - including the Weathervane and the men who'd been lying down - and seven empty rooms, their doors ripped from their hinges like cardboard flaps from a packing box.

“Oh, shit,” said Lester.


End file.
